Ulfrit
by Tales To Tell
Summary: After a year of long-distance communication, Newt visits his friends in NYC and ends up harboring a creature being hunted by MACUSA. Fearful of his case being confiscated, he keeps the ulfrit's capture secret, but then a terrible incident leaves him at the mercy of his hosts and exposes the broken trust.
1. Chapter 1

**Ulfrit**

 **Chapter 1**

Newt threw a last handful of feed to the mooncalves and once again counted their bobbing heads as they plucked the beads from the air with their stubby snouts. As he finished, a young one nudged his shin and warbled for more, looking up at him with saucer eyes. He smiled and tapped the top of its head. "Still a growing boy, are you?" He was out of feed, but he did have a bag of jelly beans in his pocket. He found a green one and bit it to make sure it was grass flavored, then held it out for the calf. "Here you go. That should top you off." The little creature gobbled up the treat then gave his leg an appreciative headbutt. "You're welcome."

The occamies were all accounted for, as was Dougal, who was currently invisible, but could be identified by the herpuffle perched on a branch floating midair. Newt stood still for a moment and took in the symphony of his creatures chirping and grumbling and fizzing and popping with contentment. It filled his heart with joy. It was backbreaking work to take care of so many, but he wouldn't stop for anything. This was his passion. This was his life. He'd teach his fellow wizards not to needlessly fear or hurt magical beasts, and he'd show his creatures that not all humans were cruel.

With a last look at the main habitats, he made his way over to an area separate from the rest. A rocky, mountainous area with a noon sun and no vegetation. From the base of a steep mountain face, he climbed on hands and feet to a crack in a pile of rocks concealing a cavemouth. Gripping the stones carefully and balancing precariously on the shifty surface, he maneuvered his body into the hole, and squeezed through. Then he sidled through a tunnel, holding his breath for half a minute until he came out on the other side into pitch black. He took a moment to catch his breath, then cast a dim _lumos_ in front of his feet and made his way deeper into the cave.

In here was his newest addition to the suitcase: an ulfrit. A man-sized creature with a spider face, furry, bearlike front, and scorpion back. He'd caught it in the subway about a week ago, when a series of train derailments hinted at magical involvement. It turned out that the trains had been running over large shed carapaces and slipping off the tracks. No one was killed, but when MACUSA realized a magical beast was stirring up trouble for the muggles, they began a hunt for it. Knowing they'd act out of fear and kill it, Newt had tracked the creature down first and sealed it in his case before MACUSA could get to it. Of course, he'd done it all in secret. As such, the official hunt was still on, and MACUSA was currently wasting time and manpower trying to get a handle on an already handled situation. But that was their problem; it didn't bother him at all. What did bother him was that he was keeping this secret from Tina, especially since she'd more than once been made to work overtime on the futile search. But there was no way he could tell her. As a MACUSA auror, she'd have to give a report, and he didn't want his case investigated again. He wasn't even supposed to have brought it back into the country after the last incident. Tina had been kind enough to overlook that, saying that she trusted him, but he didn't want to stretch it. There was no point worrying her by confessing something she'd never suspect. And perhaps, he was sad to realize, he simply didn't trust her enough. Her sense of duty had brought him pain once before. Though the worst had never happened, since that day, he'd suffered nightmares about his case being raided and his creatures being slaughtered, sometimes horrible enough to make him sick. She couldn't have known how badly it would hurt him to have his case taken away and searched by strangers. She hadn't done it maliciously. And she'd made up for it in spades by convincing Madam Picquery that his creatures posed no threat and that he was a responsible handler. He just needed time to convince himself that Tina was truly on his side.

Queenie was a major concern as well, as she was also duty bound. Not to MACUSA, but to Tina. Though she was the legilimens, she shared thoughts with her sister just as freely as she could read them. If she found out about the ulfrit, Tina would learn of it sooner than later. He did believe Queenie would give him a heads-up though. Give him a chance to tell Tina himself. She was very sensitive and considerate using her gift, which he greatly appreciated, having been scarred enough in his youth by the manipulations of cruel minds. Still, he made efforts to keep his thoughts of the ulfrit hidden from Queenie with a little occlumency that he'd learned during his travels. He wasn't terribly good at it, but since she only read thoughts that floated to the surface of a mind, his meagre skill was good enough. He was also lucky that his _accent_ , as she called it, added an extra barrier to her understanding. If she were to dig, however, she would find out at once, since he worried about it constantly. He wouldn't keep it secret forever, he rationalized. He would tell the girls about it after he got a better understanding of the creature and found a suitable place to release it.

He had only book knowledge about ulfrits, and very limited hands on knowledge of arachnomammals in general. He found this ignorance rather irksome. How could he claim expertise in magical creatures if there was an entire branch of species that he knew nothing about? This was his chance to remedy the situation, a tantalizing prospect which made him jittery with excitement every time he entered his case. In addition to what ulfrits required for nourishment, he'd gathered so far that they were shy creatures, and intolerant of light. And, well, apparently, they sprayed acid from their tails. Lucky for him it only burned as badly as lemon juice and made him itchy for a few days. If it had done worse, he might've been found out. Someday when the ulfrit was more comfortable with him, he'd try to collect a sample of the acid and determine its properties.

A scuttling sound echoed in the distance, and he paused to look around. The passage ahead was still an endless tube of nothing, but the ground had become smoother, indicative of the ulfrit's frequent passage. Its lair was close. He killed the light and then tapped the tip of his wand to the back of his head. The inky darkness surrounding him gradually lightened into various shades of grey, distinguishing space from wall and ground from feet. Now he could see, although imperfectly, the empty expanse ahead. The crude night-vision charm would last about 20 minutes before ill effects kicked in. It didn't give him much time to observe the ulfrit, but he didn't have a proper dark light, and it was better than blinding the poor creature. Ready for the encounter, he slowly continued to navigate the labyrinthine tunnels in search of the cavern where the ulfrit resided, noting the smatterings of silk and dung as he progressed. The leavings grew more and more copious until he found the way forward blocked by a fresh pile. This was it. He cleared the pile and ventured ahead into a wide chamber, dragging his feet to announce himself.

A grumble from above alerted Newt to the ulfrit's presence, and he slowly raised his head toward the sound. It was on the ceiling about ten feet above him, its huge body hanging preposterously by eight spindly legs. A bit of cave grit trickled down on him as it scampered across stalactites faster than a beast that size should be able to. He had about 10 minutes now to feed and observe the creature before the charm started to backlash. Well, then he'd probably endure the discomfort for another 10 minutes before going back to his shed to nurse his headache and jot down his notes.

He made a chattering sound with his teeth and tongue, and started unloading the ulfrit's dinner from a pouch in his pocket. Usually the creature would run away or keep a distance while he laid out its meals – piles of gnatrat meat and cardboard boxes – but this time it came to investigate before he was done. He swelled with warmth and pride as it scuttled over his head then climbed down the wall behind him, perhaps it was beginning to trust him.

"Hello, friend. I'm glad to see you're well. Here's dinner for you." He tossed a gnatrat carcass at its mandibles and it snatched it midair and gobbled it up. "Good, isn't it?" He picked up a sheet of cardboard and held it out. "If you want the rest, you'll have to come over." When it didn't move for a moment, he thought that was it for their progress that day, but then the ulfrit shuffled over and grabbed the cardboard from his hand.

He laughed and blinked back sudden moisture in his eyes. He often got a bit emotional when bonding with a new creature. "Wonderful." He stood back and let it dive into the dinner pile, content to watch it feast. While it was occupied tearing paper and crunching gnatrat bones, he took the opportunity to examine its body. He walked around it slowly, taking in its shape, its size, its smell, from the ten beady eyes atop its head to the two abdomens stacked at its rear. It had eight appendages, two in front shaped like bear claws, four in the middle like a cross between bear and spider, and the two at the rear appearing perfectly insectish. He supposed the front half of the creature generated its own heat, while the rear half took on ambient temperature. There was a repeating diamond pattern lining its sides along the transition from fur to scale across its thorax and extending toward its abdomens. Indicative of age maybe. "That would make you twenty-two," he muttered. He could only guess the purpose of having two abdomens. The lower one was short and bulbous, attached to the thorax by a flat tube. Perhaps it was responsible for the silk and droppings he'd encountered. The other was long and segmented like a scorpion's tail, thick at the base and tapering into a hook. This was the part that had sprayed him. He chanced a step closer and gazed up at the hook, absently fingering a jar in his pocket. A jittery hand flew to his mouth and he bit down on his knuckle. He was sorely tempted. What harm could it do? The substance was barely caustic. If he got sprayed, he could handle itching for a few days. For five minutes, he stood there agonizing about it, until finally he abandoned the idea. "Bugger. Some other time."

Without warning, the ulfrit whipped around and slashed at him with a huge claw. He jumped back in time, only suffering a scratch on his vest. He wasn't sure what had set it off, but instinctively he ducked and crouched submissively, averting his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. My fault entirely." He spoke calmly and soothingly. Most likely he'd gotten too close for the ulfrit's comfort. He took a dragging step back, while letting out a slow hissing breath. The ulfrit hissed back, and didn't attack again. "Better?" He chanced a look at the ulfrit's face. Its ten black eyes stared at him, its taught mouth baring fangs. It was still quite upset. "Alright. I suppose you've had enough of me for today. I'll leave you alone now."

He would've headed for the exit, but the ulfrit was blocking it and he would've had to walk past the irritated creature. At times like this he lamented setting up anti-apparition wards around this habitat, but it was better than having to worry about something accidentally popping in and then popping out with the ulfrit attached. He'd just have to make another exit. Keeping his posture unimposing, he raised his wand to feel for the fabric of the suitcase's magic, imagining the separate habitation fields like clay between his fingers. As he brought to mind the enchantments that would alter the environment and summoned his magic to enact them, the ulfrit made a sound that made his hairs stand on end. By the time he registered the danger, he was already flying backward. He crashed into the wall like a bird hitting glass, then fell face first onto a pile of rocks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Newt returned to consciousness with the feeling that much time had passed. He was stiff and cold and had a literally blinding headache. His head throbbed like it had been trampled by an erumpent, and his eyes felt like they'd been fried by dragon fire. All he could see was searing white, as bright as burning magnesium. "Bugger. Ugh." He tried to roll over, but only twitched and flopped back onto his face. He groaned into the dirt and assessed his condition. _Headache, blindness, paralysis…._ He felt the warm stickiness of blood on his abdomen, but no pain. Rather, a peculiar numbness had settled in that region. "That's not good," he muttered.

As he regained some clarity, he became aware of indignant squeaking and the miniscule sensation of something tugging at his lower lip. It took him a second to understand what it was, but once he did, he thanked his lucky stars that the dear bowtruckle insisted on practically rooting to his top pocket. "Pickett…my wand."

His request was met with a barrage of tickling slaps on his cheek. "Sorry, Pickett. I'm alright," he mumbled placatingly, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. The bowtruckle gave a chirp of disbelief with a few more slaps, and then scampered away. Some fuzzy minutes later, he felt the handle of his wand being fitted into his feeble grasp. He tried to say "thank you," but all he could manage was a spitty grunt, as he suddenly could not move his tongue. This was worrisome, as he was now limited to wordless magic. He had to get outside before he lost all his faculties. Hopefully, out in the open, someone would find him and grant him some assistance. Maybe Dougal would know to fetch him a bezoar. Or maybe the girls…. Thinking about it made him nervous. He didn't like the idea of depending on people, but he'd have no choice. At least right now he had a way to help himself.

Something scuttled overhead and a chill crept up Newt's spine. The ulfrit was nerve-rackingly close, mood unknown. He took a breath and forced the dread aside. Calmly, he felt for his magic, tugging at the strands within his wand and within his core. It was viscous and unwieldy, spoiled by the poison in his blood, but he pushed and pulled through the resistance until it loosened like taffy and yielded to his will. There came a moment of pure silence, and then the cave rumbled. Pickett squeaked and climbed into his hair. Out of sight, but in his mind's eye, open caverns closed, partitions fell, and tunnels diverged from their original paths. Then the ground beneath him softened and dipped, sinking into a deep, deep hole. At last, the bottom fell out and he was falling, rolling, sliding through an endless chute, down, down, down, twisting and turning until he shot out of the base of the mountain and skidded to a halt.

The light hitting his eyes was brighter than a thousand suns. With no voice to scream, he lay there splayed on his back in tortured silence, gasping and sweating, acid tears gushing between his eyelids. Now he could panic. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't feel his wand. He'd have to lie here at the mercy of time and fate and hope they chose to be kind. It could've been his imagination, but he swore it was getting harder to breathe. His heartbeat was a clock ticking down his last seconds.

He was blacking out. In his last moments, he found himself thinking not of his creatures and who would care for them when he was gone, but of Tina. Her smile, her voice, the way she shook her head at him like he was ridiculous, but beckoned him closer with her eyes. The way she'd fit perfectly into his arms when he'd caught her from the jump off the swooping evil. The softness of her hand brushing his as he'd given her a copy of his book. The energy he'd sworn had passed between their skins. He'd never be able to figure out what that was. He'd never be able to explore the potential for greater things between them, whatever they might be.

"Newt?"

"Queenie!" he shouted in his head. "Thank Merlin!"

He heard skidding over rock and then a grainy thud beside him. "Oh no! Newt, honey, what happened?"

"Bezoar, quickly! In the shed! Bottom drawer! Can't miss it!"

There was a crack of magic, then shortly after, another two.

"Mercy Lewis, Newt! What happened?"

"He can't talk, Teenie."

Newt felt himself being propped up, and then a smooth stone was shoved into his mouth. The only positive was that he could not taste the bezoar, since his tongue had gone numb. Unfortunately, his gag reflex was still intact, but with the help of a hand clamped over his mouth, he succeeded in getting it down. Almost instantaneously, the venom's effects began to recede, taking with it the crippling numbness, and returning a fraction of his voice.

"Merlin's beard. Thank you, Queenie," he rasped.

A warm hand brushed his cheek. "Oh, Newt. You're welcome."

"Let's get him out of here."

Back in their living room, Tina and Queenie half carried half dragged Newt to the couch. He sat with a stifled groan and then eased down onto his side, holding his chest and breathing rapidly through gritted teeth.

"We need to call someone," said Tina, her voice trilling with worry.

Queenie propped a cushion under Newt's head, then took off his shoes and lifted his legs onto the couch. "But we don't know any witchdoctors, Teen."

"Well, we don't know anything about medicine. We can't take care of him ourselves. I'm gonna get someone from work."

"No, don't," cried Newt. "I can…" He pushed feebly against the cushions and tried to rise. "I'll be alright. Just help me get what I need. Please." He dug bloody fingers into the back of the couch and pulled himself up.

Tina pushed him back down. "Newt, you're in no shape to look after yourself. You can barely sit up. You can't even open your eyes. I'll be back in bit."

"No, wait. Please."

She stood up to apparate, but Queenie grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.

"Teenie, I think you'd better not." Her tone begged Tina to listen. "He's afraid, Teenie."

"Of the doctor?"

Queenie shook her head. "He thinks they'll take away his case. Hurt his creatures. He's terrified."

Queenie looked like she was about to cry. _Newt's feelings_ , Tina realized. She glanced at Newt then back at Queenie, her will crumbling under her the latter's pleading gaze. She sighed in defeat. "Fine. But if we can't handle it, I'm taking him to a hospital."

"Deal." Queenie waved her wand in an arch around the couch and the two-seater transformed into a long cot. Next, with two flicks she conjured a pen and notepad and started taking notes of everything Newt was thinking regarding his injuries, just in case it could help them treat him.

Shaking her head at Queenie, Tina headed back to the couch to interrogate her new _patient_. She stood above him with her arms folded, looking down at him severely. "Alright Newt, start talking. What do you need?"

Newt sagged into the cot, the worried creases on his face considerably eased, and named the items he needed. "Antiseptic. Blood booster. Liquid stitches. Skin seal…"

Queenie's pen dashed across the notepad as Newt spoke.

"…Skele-grow. Nerve potion. Anti-fever…"

"You have all that in your case?" asked Tina.

"Basic…first-aid," he said and pulled his lips into a smile. It looked grotesque with blood on his teeth and tears streaming down his cheeks.

Tina rolled her eyes. "Is that all?"

Newt sucked a rattling breath between his teeth and answered lamely, "Tweezers."

Tina looked at Queenie. "You got all that?"

Queenie bit her lips then ripped the note from the pad. "I got it. I'll be right back." With a last glance at Newt, she opened the case and hopped in.

Once Queenie was in the case, Tina turned back to inspect Newt, who was struggling between his need to breathe and his need to keep still. His arm was stiff across his bleeding guts like he was trying to hold them in. "How bad is it?" she asked and tugged on the arm, trying to take a look.

"Just a scratch," he said and kept his arm in place.

"Right. And that's why your entire front's dyed red." She tugged the arm again. "Honestly, Newt. If you want my help, you're gonna have to trust me."

Newt bit his lip and didn't speak, nor did he move his arm.

Tina huffed. Her hands clenched and unclenched with the urge to strangle something. "What happened to your eyes? Why are they watering so much?"

"Night vision spell," said Newt. "Held it too long."

"Mercy Lewis. Why didn't you say something?" Tina held her wand over Newt's face and mumbled a spell, and then dark liquid like molasses poured from the tip onto Newt's eyes. "That should help."

Newt relaxed slightly. "It does. Thank you. What is it?"

"Beauty mask."

Newt chuckled then started to cough until flecks of blood stained his lips. Tina looked away and rubbed her arms up and down.

 _Squeak_.

A bulge in Newt's shirt started to move, and then Pickett climbed out of Newt's collar and onto his shoulder, looking rather run through the ringer. The poor bowtruckle was covered in dark, red crust.

"Oh, Pickett, you poor thing."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Newt, worry tinting his voice.

"He's got blood all over him."

"Mine?"

"Who else's, Newt?" Tina snapped.

Newt flinched.

"Come here, Pickett. Let me clean you up." Tina held her hand out for the tiny twig creature to climb on, but he shrank back and hid under Newt's chin. "Come on, Pickett. You can't be comfortable like that." The little creature hugged Newt's neck and blew Tina a raspberry.

"I don't think he'll let go of me," said Newt. His voice was airy like it was a struggle to do more than breathe. "Some water in a bowl. On my chest. He'll bathe himself."

Tina huffed and conjured a bowl of water then placed it not so gently on Newt's chest. Newt's hiss of pain made her cringe, but she didn't apologize. He couldn't see her anger, so she would let him feel it.

The bowtruckle crawled out from his hiding place onto Newt's chest and peered over the rim of the bowl. After patting the surface of the water a few times with a twiggy hand, he hopped into the bowl and started to roll around.

Tina watched Pickett play in the water until it turned pink. Then she replaced it with fresh water and turned to stare at Newt's trunk, doing her best to ignore the sounds his lungs were making.

Not long after, Queenie returned. "I got everything."

"Alright, Newt. What do you need first?" asked Tina, voice mechanical.

"Need to sit up."

"Sorry, Pickett." Tina levitated the bowl off Newt's chest to put it on the table, but Pickett squealed in protest and jumped out of the bowl onto Newt's legs.

Queenie sat on the edge of the cot and propped Newt upright. "Like this?"

He nodded. He was shaking like a leaf and looking rather pale. "Sorry, but I'm going to be sick."

In a second, Tina conjured a dustbin under his head and then he was doubled over it, hacking up his stomach. She looked on stiffly from a distance as Queenie braced him and rubbed his back. Then when bloody mucus started pouring from his nose, she turned away and pretended to be looking for something. She grabbed a placemat from the dining table and wrung it in her hands, twisting harder every time Newt gagged. When the retching finally ceased, she transfigured it into a towel and faced the cot again.

Newt was slumped against Queenie, as pale as death. His mouth hung open as though he lacked the strength to close it.

Tina vanished the dustbin and handed the towel to Queenie. "What do you need first, Newt?" she asked again.

His response was little more than haggard whimpering breaths.

Queenie lay him back down and wiped his face. "Skele-grow first, huh?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Newt was stuck in his worst nightmare, writhing and moaning as it warped from scene to horrifying scene. His case was destroyed, and his creatures were dead. Dougal skinned for an invisibility cloak. Niffler made into a purse. The graphorns dehorned and left to bleed out. The occamies, puddles of feathers and chunks, ripped too soon from their silver shells.

He ran through the wrecked habitats, looking for signs of life, but there was only death. Bowtruckles burning. Pickett snapped in two. Tiny piercing cries.

 _No!_

He stumbled over a butchered mooncalf, its gaping sockets accusing.

Newt screamed.

The ground shook and he fell onto his back as the world collapsed around him. Agony ripped through his insides. He shouted and thrashed, clawing for an anchor, anything to hold on to and pull himself out of this hell.

Something caught his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back as hard as he could as he hurtled through the darkness.

"Newt!"

He jolted upright, then immediately fell back onto a springy mattress. Pain shot from his stomach to his skull, so intense he couldn't cry out. He couldn't even breathe. When he finally managed to inhale, the smell of blood and waste filled his nostrils and he heaved over the side of the bed.

As the pain receded, he became aware of someone talking to him, dabbing his face with a cloth. Queenie. It was probably her hand he was squeezing the daylights out of. He opened his eyes and saw her standing over him, her face strained with worry. He glanced around the dimly lit room looking for Tina, but didn't see her anywhere.

They were in the spare bedroom. He couldn't remember being moved. He remembered drinking potions and trying to stay conscious.

Images from the nightmare tore through his mind. He knew they weren't real, but all he could think about was checking on his creatures to make sure.

"My case," he said, his voice full of gravel.

"Right here," said Queenie.

Newt raised his head until he could see where she was pointing, then collapsed again onto his side, panting from the effort.

He let go of Queenie's hand with an apology and gingerly rolled onto his back, pushing off the sticky bedsheets. Thick bandages were wrapped around his midsection, the source of his torture. It felt like he'd been cut to his intestines. He cursed himself under his breath. He hadn't been this hurt in years. He'd let his excitement make him careless. If he'd destroyed all the trust he'd built between himself and the ulfrit, he'd never forgive himself.

A glass nudged his lips and he caught the smell of a painkiller, one that would knock him out for at least eight hours. He turned his head away.

Queenie sat on the bed beside him. "It's alright to be hurting and want something to help," she said.

"It's not too bad," said Newt. "I can handle it." There was no way he would let himself sleep for so long and leave his creatures vulnerable. He could feel Queenie looking at him, like she was reading his soul. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Would you not…"

"Oh, Newt, I'm not even trying to," she said. "I can hear you clear as bells."

Newt glanced up at her face. He saw sadness and concern in her eyes. She looked almost as weary as he felt.

"Like I told you before, it's easy to read people when they're hurting," she said. "Sometimes, I can even sort of feel it."

Newt grimaced.

Queenie held the vial out to him again. "Would you take it for me, Newt?"

He sighed with resignation and opened his mouth. Queenie fed him the potion, and then he slumped back on the mattress, the pain in his guts already pushed aside by warm numbness and the urge to sleep.

He strained against his closing eyelids. "Sorry, Queenie…I didn't know…"

"It's ok. You were just worried," she said. "But you don't have to be, Newt. You're safe with us. You and your creatures. You can trust us."

Newt looked sleepily into Queenie's eyes. "I trust you." He tried to mean it. He really wanted to, but…

"Relax, Newt," said Queenie. "Get better."

Newt made a last futile attempt to open his eyes, then sighed and fell asleep.

Tina looked up from her mug of tea as Queenie entered the dining room. Her shadowed, red-rimmed eyes watched Queenie expectantly. "Well?"

"He took it. He's asleep now."

Tina nodded. "Good."

Queenie poured herself some tea and sat beside Tina. "You should talk to him when he wakes up."

Tina stared into her mug. "There's nothing I want to say to him."

"What about things you should say?"

"You reading my mind?"

Queenie pursed her lips. "You're practically broadcasting."

Tina huffed. "Well, cover your…whatever you need to cover."

The sisters drank their tea in silence for a while until Queenie broke it again.

"I just want you two to work things out. You shouldn't let something like this come between you."

Tina gave her scrutinizing look. "What do you mean between us? Work things out? What's there to work out? Newt's just…He's just…"

Queenie put down her mug and leaned toward Tina. "You can't fool me, Teen. And I don't think you're fooling yourself either. You're worried and that's making you angry. You should tell Newt how you feel about what happened. Tell him you're worried about him. That you care. It'll be good for him."

Tina shook her head. "No, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because…because…" She shook her head again. "I don't know. Never mind. Let's just forget it." She stood up before Queenie could say anything else. "I'm gonna go wash up." She levitated her mug to the sink, then hurried from the room.

The next morning, after much internal debating, Tina went to check on Newt to see how he was recovering and maybe to take Queenie's advice. She stood at the door to the spare bedroom with her hand on the knob for about a minute before she finally mustered the courage to go in.

She poked her head in first so she could back out quickly if Newt was indecent, but he wasn't. He wasn't even there. The bed was empty and Newt was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't be gone. He'd left his case on the floor. Tina frowned at the ruffled sheets on the empty bed.

"Where in the world…"

She thought maybe he'd somehow gotten himself to the bathroom, but when she turned to go and look, she heard a bang and a grunt behind her. Newt's suitcase bounced about half an inch, and then the lid popped open. Moments later, two hands, and then a head, and then a pair of shoulders emerged.

Tina stood there gaping as Newt dragged himself out of the case inch by inch, crawling on his belly like he was jelly-legs jinxed. Once he'd heaved his legs into the room, he kicked down the lid and slumped onto the floor, breathing heavily, arm tight against his midsection.

"Were you just…"

Newt jerked his head up, and his eyes widened as they landed on her. "Tina."

"What on earth were you just doing?" Tina asked.

He looked as though he thought the answer obvious. "It was mealtime," he said. Then slowly, he pushed himself onto his hands and knees.

He said something after that, but Tina didn't catch it. She was already out the door. She stormed into the kitchen and fired spells at a kettle and a teacup. The water boiled and then the kettle floated over to the cup to pour over a teabag. The scent of chamomile filled the room and Tina began to calm down. By the time she had calmed enough to realize that Newt might have been asking for help, he had already gotten himself back in bed and was fast asleep. She stood over his bed looking down at his face. He was pale as a ghost, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. With a shake of her head, she cast spells to dry and cool him down then left him to rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Newt recovered quickly from his ordeal and was as good as new within a fortnight. He ultimately told the girls all about the ulfrit, since there was no denying the origins of his injuries, and to his great relief, magical authorities were not contacted.

He settled into the household quite well during his convalescence, venturing into his case thrice daily to feed his creatures and conduct experiments—he managed to smooth things over with the ulfrit and collect some venom—then coming out for meals or to share his observations with Queenie and Tina. It was lovely having human company as he sorted through his notes and made plans for later editions of his book, and the ladies enjoyed having him around. At least, they didn't seem to mind.

So they said, but Newt was starting to suspect differently. Maybe he was misinterpreting, but for the past few days he'd been getting the feeling that Tina was avoiding him. She'd been staying out late for nights in a row and going to bed as soon as she returned, even when he waited up to have dinner with her. She said she was working overtime, but he gathered from Queenie that she'd volunteered to file some paperwork. Tina hated paperwork. To top it all off, she hardly said more than two words to him at a time anymore. He couldn't fathom why. He'd tried to ask Queenie about it, but she said he should ask Tina if he really thought something was wrong, and so, nervous though he was, here he was, watching the woman in question zip about the apartment blasting spots and stains with a vigor he doubted they warranted and hoping he wouldn't be hit by a stray scouring spell while he waited for a lull in which he might broach the subject.

There was a pause between blasts as Tina looked around for something to clean. Newt took the chance and approached her cautiously as she sent a sweater to the laundry basket.

"Tina, can we talk a moment?" he asked.

Tina glanced at him then returned to her cleaning.

"Tina, you haven't said a proper word to me in days. Is there something I…"

She shoved past him as he got closer.

"Tin—"

"What do you want, Newt?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the floor. "You're angry with me. I wish you would tell me why."

"One would think the reason,"—she zapped a dust bunny by his feet—"is obvious."

Newt stepped out of her way then whirled around to face her as she zoomed off to another area, blasting more specks and spots. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm not the most gifted at picking up on social cues," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you'd enlighten me."

She stopped her cleaning frenzy and turned to him with her arms crossed. "Is that so? For someone so brilliant and compassionate and kind, you really are an oblivious, inconsiderate bonehead."

Newt's eyes grew wide at the insult and then his gaze drifted from Tina's face to his feet, his posture shrinking with it. "Sorry, I…I don't quite understand why. I guess it's true then." He scratched the back of his head and chanced a glance at her face, but only made it as far as her chin before he had to look away.

"Did you ever think of Queenie or me?" said Tina. "How long were you planning to keep it up?"

Newt looked around sheepishly. "Oh." The living room, which had become like his second home, was looking quite lived in, and not by its rightful occupants. His books and journals and sample vials were strewn all over, and that was surely his dirty sock under the coffee table. With a wave of his wand, he cleaned up his messes, returned his belongings to his case, and summoned the case to his hand. "I apologize," he said, still looking away. "I didn't realize I was imposing. You're right. I just assumed you didn't mind. I suppose I've overstayed my welcome." He laughed self-consciously. "Three weeks is a bit long, isn't it?" He headed for the door.

"Newt, stop. You're misunderstanding."

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Tina. Please give my best to Queenie." He reached for the doorknob and his case went flying out of his hand, straight into Tina's.

"Give that back, please," he said to her shins.

"Not until you look at me and start listening properly."

Newt looked at her face then. "Tina, I may seem to be calm, but I'm actually quite upset, so if you would just return my case so I can leave I'd be grateful."

Tina wrapped her arms around the case. "Come back from the door and sit down."

After a long faceoff, Newt broke and did as he was told, swallowing down the fire in his gut. He didn't understand this hold Tina had over him. He could just summon the case back from her, but for whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Good," said Tina, sitting down beside him. "And what do _you_ have to be upset about?"

Newt clasped his hands together. "Nothing, except you just called me selfish and kicked me out."

"I did not," said Tina. "You misunderstood. And even if I did, it's no worse than what you did to me."

"I don't recall doing anything to you, Tina, but whatever fault you imagine lies with me, I apologize for it. Now, can I have my case back?"

"You lied to me, Newt. I asked you if you had that creature in your suitcase, and you lied to my face. Then you nearly got yourself killed by it. What would you have done if Queenie hadn't found you?"

"I'm sure Dougal would've—"

" _Newt_."

Newt gritted his teeth. "Alright. It's possible I might've died if she hadn't. I did thank her for helping me, but maybe I haven't done enough. I don't have much to give. It's just me and my creatures and my research."

"You're missing my point."

"No, you're missing mine. My creatures are all I have, Tina. _All_ I have. If I lose them, I lose me. I couldn't tell you about the ulfrit because then my case would be confiscated, and I could not endure that happening again."

"You couldn't trust me?"

"You were the one who turned me in in the first place!"

Tina's jaw dropped. Newt's mouth snapped shut.

"Oh. Wow." Tina stood up from the couch.

Newt stood with her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. It's just that…"

"No, it's fine. Here." She handed back his case. "You can leave if you want. Or stay. I don't care. I'm going out."

Newt hurried after her as she walked past him toward the door. "Wait, Tina. Don't leave. Let's talk."

"I don't think there's anything left to talk about."

Newt grabbed her wrist to keep her from apparating. "Please stay."

"Let go."

"I stayed when you asked, please do the same for me. Don't leave upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Now you're lying to me."

"Are you so sure, Mr. Bad-With-Social-Cues?"

"I know what pain looks like."

Tina turned away.

Newt stepped in front of her. "Tina, please, can we start this conversation over?" He put her hand on the handle of his case, then clamped his own over it. "Please tell me why you've been upset with me."

Tina bit her lips and puffed out her cheeks then finally opened her mouth. "I knew you had it in your case. Queenie found out and told me, and I decided to let you keep it secret."

Newt sucked in a breath. He suddenly found it very hard to look at Tina, so he looked at her shoulder instead. "How long have you known?"

Tina glared at him. "Since a week before I asked you if you had it."

He cringed. "So, basically, the whole time."

"Basically."

He ducked his head and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he felt very queasy. All that time he'd thought he couldn't trust Tina, but he was the one who'd broken her trust. He just wanted to crawl into a hole and berate himself for having been such a fool. If only he'd just… "I should've trusted you," he said.

He braced himself for some well-deserved verbal flaying, but Tina merely sighed.

"You could've," she said, "but I don't blame you for not. You have every right to be careful with your creatures. They're vulnerable and no one understands them like you do. If I'd turned you in, it probably would've turned out exactly as you'd feared."

"But you didn't turn me in," said Newt, his voice husky with regret. "And I wasted all that time misjudging you."

"Well, now you know better," she said.

"Yes," said Newt. He braved a look at her. She wasn't glaring anymore, but she still looked rather grim. "I guess I can't say that you should've told me," he said. He was hoping to coax a smile from her, but her mouth didn't even twitch. "There's something more, isn't there?" he said. "Won't you tell me?"

Tina shook her head. "No, never mind. It's stupid. I just realized I was being ridiculous." She tugged on her hand. "I'm not upset anymore, Newt. You can let go now."

"What was it then?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. I've already forgotten."

"Let me hear it."

"No. It's no big deal."

"It was big enough to upset you for two weeks."

Tina waved him off. "No. Honestly, it's nothing."

"Fine," said Newt. He let go of her hand, and put his case on the floor. "But if you don't tell me how I upset you, I'm sure to repeat it. I hope you won't blame me when I do."

"You had better not _dare_ do that to me again," said Tina.

"I promise," he said. "But do what exactly?"

Tina crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks like a balloon about to pop then finally blurted it out. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Keeping something like that when you barely know how to handle it. What were you thinking, Newt? You could've gotten yourself killed!"

Newt couldn't fathom why that would upset her. Injuries came with the profession, and he was well prepared to handle them. He felt a bit insulted by the insinuation otherwise. "I was thinking that me possibly dying was more tolerable than an innocent creature being put down because no one could be bothered to figure out how to help it."

"And _that's_ what you were doing, _helping_ it, when it decided to nearly eviscerate you?"

"That wasn't its intention. It was just trying to swat me away. It's not its fault its claws are six inches long."

" _What?!_ "

"Besides, it was my fault," he added quickly. "I was in its blind spot and startled it. I must've done something to hurt it without realizing."

" _Did_ you now?" said Tina. "And just how badly did you hurt the poor creature, Newt? Does it need me to go find it and put its ribcage back together before it stops breathing, give it three vials of blood booster, scrape the gravel out of its arms and legs, and wash the pus out of its eyes?"

"No, but—"

Tina threw her hands out. "No, Newt. No. Don't say anything. I know what you're gonna say, and you're just gonna make me feel horrible, and then I won't be able to be angry with you anymore, and I need to be angry. I need to. I can't be…"

Newt had never been so confused in his life. He wasn't even sure what they were talking about anymore, but it was clear that he'd done something horrible. He felt immensely regretful, simply because Tina was so badly affected by whatever it was. He started to apologize, but then she turned away. He gaped in bewilderment at her back. "Tina?"

She sniffled. "What?"

He cautiously touched her shaking shoulder then stepped around her so that he could see her face. The sight of tears punched him in the gut. It hurt worse than the blow from the ulfrit. He stood there frozen for a moment, unsure what to do, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. "I'm so sorry, Tina," he said. "I've been an exceptional moron. I didn't realize I'd hurt you."

"I was so scared," she said. "I thought I was gonna lose you. I hate losing people." She thumped his chest with her fist.

"Me too," said Newt. "I'm sorry I scared you. And I appreciate that you would be afraid for me." He swallowed a lump in his throat. "I don't know very many who would care if anything happened to me. I guess it never occurred to me that you might."

"You mean, that I _do_. I do care about you, Newt." She looked up into his eyes. "A lot."

Newt's heart went bang. "I-I…I appreciate you saying so," he said. Suddenly, speaking was a complex skill he'd never mastered. "And I… _do_ care about you too, Tina. Very much." A shy smile curved the corners of his lips.

Tina smiled back and he felt warm all over.

"I hope this means you'll exercise a bit more caution when dealing with anything that could kill you," she said.

He nodded. "I'll do my best."

"That's all I'm asking for."

They gazed into each other's eyes, and a moment came and went. They separated, both feeling a bit disappointed.

Tina cleared her throat and gestured to the room. "Now put everything the way it was before Queenie gets back and starts asking…"

Newt pulled Tina back into his arms and kissed her.

If he had thought about it, there was no way he could've been so bold, but his heart had always been a brave organ. He had made more than a few blunders recently, but when Tina looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips into his, he knew this wasn't one.

Their lips parted, but their bodies stayed close. Foreheads touching. Twin hearts beating.

"Forgive me if I've misinterpreted," said Newt.

Tina shook her head and giggled.

Newt chuckled. "I think I've been wanting to do that for a while now."

"Really? Since when?"

"Dinner."

"Yesterday?"

"Last year."

Tina giggled some more.

"I've never met anyone like you," said Newt. "You've given me so much. You tolerate me more than even my own family. I wish I could do something to repay you."

"You don't need to do anything," said Tina. "And I think I more than tolerate you, Newt." She placed another kiss on his lips.

Newt blushed like a peach. "Still, I want to," he said. A dreamy look settled in his eyes. "Though, I think it might take a lifetime."

Tina turned a pretty shade of pink and rested her head on Newt's chest.

Eventually, reluctantly, the lovebirds let go of each other and returned the room to its former cluttered glory.

Later on, when Queenie came back with two bags full of Jacob's baking, if she noticed a change between her sister and their guest or the blushes that erupted whenever they glanced at each other, she kept her observations to herself.


End file.
